Red
by Child-of-Wonder
Summary: It was blood that made her and blood that enslaved her. It was blood that annointed her and blood that saved her. Pansy/Ginny R for violence


**Red**

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**Disclaimer:** I don't own any characters or places. They belong to Rowling or Warner Bros. or whoever.

            They say there's a fine line between love and hate. I say it's a line of blood. Dark red, pouring from the veins of the fucked. My first time, it was Draco, he broke me and tore me and dark crimson leaked from my body and tears burned down my face. I shoved him away from me. He looked like a macrabe angel standing over my bleeding form. Nether regions covered in blood and a halo of golden hair. He scowled at me and left. I tried, in vain, to wash the blood from my sheets and thighs. The sheets would not come clean, and though my thighs were clean to the eye in my mind I could still see blood, like shame upon them.

            If I had even had some sort of compassion before, it was all gone in that instant. Before I was only unsure and resentful, now I was broken. No one has as much loathing for the world as broken soul. And Broken I was. Broken and bleeding. Drowning in my own vile life.

            I chose her because she had red hair. It was dark and deep, a girlish orange had matured into a deep fiery red. It reminded me of blood. Long streams of blood pouring down her back and shoulders. I wanted to touch it, smell it. Did it have that sharp tang? I pursued her, and in time I always get what I want. The desperate always do. I don't know why she gave in, maybe she could feel the twisted bloodlust that had consumed me ever since. It was almost chaste at first, but soon I taught her. She was innocent. Innocent before me, before I showed her. Showed her that no one with hair the color of blood should be innocent.

            It was late when she met me in the hall. I led her to my room and pulled her clothes off. I told her not to talk. Then I pleased her. She moaned and screamed and panted, and before long her voice had gone raw and her sweat-dampened hair was clinging to her chest. Finally she was reaching her height, two of my fingers were imbedded in her and as she gasped in complete bliss I tore my fingers through her, breaking her, tearing her like I was torn. Ravaging her body, just to see her blood flow. Was it as dark as mine? Did it taste sharp and hard, like death? I looked at my crimson painted hand. She was crying now, pain coursing through her where pleasure had moments before. I smiled at her tears and wiped at them with a bloody hand leaving long scarlet streaks down her face. I ran my hand through her hair. Ah, now it would smell like blood, forever. I knew, blood never leaves. No matter how much you hate it it's always there, waiting, waiting to be released. My bed was stained again. I didn't care, it didn't matter. I had poured my own blood out many times. Sje gasped through her pain and looked up at me. I smirked. No more innocent eyes. I pulled a sharp blade from under my bed and raked it across my abdomen in a well traced line. I bit down on my tongue as the pain seared me, but it was pleasure too. Pleasure to see the horror in her eyes. I rubbed my body over hers. Now we were both covered in blood. Angels of death. I laughed at her pain, but then something happened I was not prepared for, those eyes that had shone with terror were suddenly lust filled. I knew just as it had taken me, it had taken her. She pulled the knife from me and slid it along her tongue, dark red drops oozed outwards and she leaned forward and kissed me. Her blood sent bolts to my brain. Her tongue spread through my mouth, coating my teeth and throat and I was drowning and it was sweet, so sweet. She reached down and rubbed her hands over my bleeding front and brought her hands to my face. She stroked me with unclean hands and brushed my eyes with my own blood. The world was red.

            The next day they found her dead. She was in her bed, naked. Arms slit to her elbows, beside her was a jar half filled with her with blood. Attached was a note, written in the life's fluid. A bloody quill hastily dropped beside it. It read:

_To Pansy:_

_The world is red. My blood is flowing and I can't bare to stop it._

            I picked up the jar and carried it to my room.

            And I could still taste her blood in my mouth.

~Child of Wonder~


End file.
